It'll Work Out (Hopefully)
by tineyandkate
Summary: Nico gets adopted by the Jacksons, but he's not being the easiest foster kid out there. His half sister is almost dead, and Nico is struggling with gangs, heartbreak, and a new girl with the same problems he's got. T for mentions of drugs, self-harm, attempted suicide, and language. There will be Thalico eventually and Percabeth so if you don't like it, don't read it. Mortal AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! No I'm not dead although y'all are probably a little bit upset with me for not updating the two other stories that I really should update.. I have no clue where I'm going with my other PJO fic and I just haven't been in the mood to write more about my Underground fic... Sorry? You're WHAT! was just a oneshot so don't expect anything more out of it unless I decide to turn it into a twoshot. That's kind of unlikely but who knows? So. Umm... What's missing here?... Ah, yes. DISCLAIMER. I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT FOR MY OCs AND ANYTHING ELSE THAT IS ORIGINAL IN MY STORY CUZ I AM PRETTY SURE THIS PLOT LINE HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE. So now I get to say: ON WITH ZE STORY!**

_**Nico POV**_

_I walk a lonely road_

_The only one that I have ever known_

_Don't know where it goes_

_But it's home to me and I walk alone._

Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day blasted through my earbuds. I was sprawled in my bed in the adoption home. My social worker, Denise, poked her head in. Denise was tall and willowy, with long light brown hair. She had hazel eyes, but they were surrounded with way too much eye makeup. Her face was a little bit long, and her nose looked a little bit pointy. She was pale and she had a funny looking smile, almost as if her mouth didn't have corners, just square-ish looking ends.

"Nico, honey," she began.

I groaned and snapped, "Whoever it is, tell them to f*** off." I was tired of constantly moving from foster family to foster family.

"Nico, that's not nice," Denise reprimanded me. "This woman already has a son, and he's about your age. You guys will have a lot in common, I think. I promise this one will be different."

I laughed humorlessly. "Y'know, Denise, you say that every time. Every single mother-f***ing time I get kicked out or I run away. I'm done."

"Please, Nico," Denise pleaded. "This is the last one. If you truly hate this home, you are free to leave and we can't force you to stay anywhere." I could hear the slight desperation in her voice. I was a trouble child. No family really wanted to take in a disrespectful, depressed fifteen year old. Especially not one like me. It made sense that if this family didn't work out, the adoption center was just going to let me go. They were losing money on me.

I grunted and swung my legs out of bed. "Fine." I stomped out of my room and into the adoption area, where couples or families would finish filling out whatever paperwork that hadn't been done and met their foster kid. The woman sitting down in one of the chairs at the opposite end of the room was middle-aged with long brown hair streaked with gray. She had a kind, gentle face, but I knew from previous experiences that a face didn't say anything about a person. For all I knew, this lady could be an abusive bitch.

I set my jaw as the woman stood up and tried to shake my hand. After letting her hold her hand out for a few seconds, I grasped her hand and gave it a very brief shake. "Hello," she said, smiling brightly. "I'm Sally Jackson. Your name is Nico, right?"

I retorted, "No, I'm a random deranged teenager that has killed Nico and is taking his place so I can murder you all in your sleep." At her startled blink, I sighed and said, "Of course I'm Nico. Who else would I be?" Sally's smile slipped, but only for a second.

Denise gave her an apologetic look. "He's a little bit, umm, depressed. His mother and sister were killed when he was little, and his other sister is in the hospital. So-" I glared fiercely at her and she shut up.

Sally looked at me with pity, and I clenched my jaw. Denise shifted her weight and said, "If you'll come with me, Ms. Jackson, we'll get the papers sorted out and everything signed, and then Nico here will be yours to care for." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "And it will give Nico and your son a chance to get acquainted. Nico, this is Percy."

For the first time, I noticed a tall, black-haired teenager. He was sound asleep in his chair, and I felt the urge to poke him to see what would happen. I suspected I might get punched, though. Instead I reached over and shook him, and I wasn't too gentle about it, either. He snorted and woke up, looking rather disconcerted. His eyes were at first unfocused and cloudy, but as he gradually became more alert, they brightened and cleared. I noted that they were green like the sea on a sunny day.

I hate sunny days.

He focused on me and gave me the up-down. I glared back at him. "Hi," he said cautiously. "I'm Percy. I'm going to guess that you're Nico."

I arched my brow and said, "Well, you guessed correctly. Any more 'guesses' about me?" Percy blinked and his mouth formed a small O.

"Well," Denise cleared her throat. "We'll be back in a minute with all of the paperwork filled out. Nico, please don't do anything that'll get both of us into trouble." I glared at the two women's backs.

Percy shifted uncomfortably. "So..." he said slowly. I turned and glared back at him. He shrank away from me a little bit, and I felt a glimmer of satisfaction at successfully intimidating him within my first three minutes of knowing him. He shut his mouth, looking confused and a little bit hurt.

I slumped down against the wall, playing with my silver skull ring. I pulled it off my finger and tossed it up in the air a few times. I caught it and bounced it in my palm for a minute, then sighed and put it back on my finger. Percy sat in his chair, watching me curiously. Every once in a while, I would catch him staring at me with a sad look in his green eyes, and I would glare sharply until he looked away. A few minutes later, Denise came out with Sally. Sally was holding a plastic baggie with all of my medications, and Denise was obviously pleased that I would be leaving the adoption system for the last time.

Denise stopped by me and looked at me with a huge smile plastered on her face. "Well, Nico," she said. "It looks like this'll be the last time I'm going to see you for quite awhile. Good luck! I hope this one will be your forever home."

By the end of this little speech, she had glittering tears at the corners of her hazel eyes. My heart twisted as I looked at them. Not because I was saying goodbye to Denise, but because of the color. Hazel. My sister Hazel. She was in the hospital in a coma. Drunk driving accident... I could still remember Denise coming into my room, saying Hazel was in the hospital and it was serious. She'd been in the coma for seven months now. It was unlikely she would ever wake up.

I looked down at my lap before Denise could see the tear trace its way down my cheek. Denise reached down and ruffled my hair, even though she knows I hate being touched. I flinched away, wiping away the solitary tear on my cheek, and stood up. I crossed my arms and waited.

Sally said, "Nico, the car is in the parking lot. Do you have everything you need?" I nodded and followed the Jacksons out of the adoption center.

**Alright! I hope you guys liked this so far, and I'm sorry if this wasn't long enough for you. The next chapter is gonna be much longer, and I'll be introducing an OC. I've already started it and I've gotten a good chunk done so maybe I'll be able to update faster and maybe make you guys a bit happier. Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Heeeey! I'm back! And here's the second chapter, as promised! So this chapter is longer, and told entirely from Percy's POV. In later chapters, I might start rotating point-of-views, but I'm not there yet. Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OCs and anything else that's original.**

Percy POV

Wow. I was astonished that anyone could be as rude and cold as Nico. His social worker had gotten all emotional while saying good-bye, and all he did was look away from her. I mean I get that he's had a difficult past and everything, but really? Snapping at someone he barely knows, and being flat-out uncooperative? Not cool, man.

Anyway, Nico was in the backseat of my stepdad Paul's Prius. He didn't have much with him, just an iPod, a sketchpad, a pencil, and a change of clothes—black, of course. The ADHD part of my brain wondered if Nico ever wore anything besides black. He was tapping his pencil on his thigh, and avoiding every single question my mom asked.

"Nico," she began hesitantly. "When your sister gets out of the hospital, will she be coming to live with us, or does she have another foster family?" I looked at Nico through the mirror in the car. His jaw was clenched, and his dark eyes were incredibly sad and stormy-looking.

Finally he answered, "Doctor says she's not gonna wake up." A small tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

My mother's face fell a little, and she said softly, "Oh. Oh, my word. I'm sorry; I should've guessed that would be a painful topic for you." Nico's eyes welled up again before he blinked hard and went back to staring out the window.

We drove along in silence for a while. Nico continued to be unresponsive and creepy. We passed a small white building and Nico made a funny squeaking noise in the back of his throat. Mom slowed down the car and asked, "Are you okay back there, Nico?" Nico didn't answer, but kept staring at the little building. I read the sign. "TLC Teens Hospital–A Special Care Center Designed For Teens Only".

"Is that–is that where your sister is?" I asked slowly. Nico didn't answer, he just jumped out of the car and half-walked, half-ran up to the door. He slipped inside. I looked at Mom. "Should we follow him in to make sure nothing happens?" Mom nodded and parked the Prius.

When we got inside, the lady at the desk looked at us and smiled. "Are you looking for that young man who just came in?" We nodded. The lady smiled again. "He's back in the fourth room on the left of that hallway. Visiting his sister. I don't know why they bother to keep that machine on; the poor girl doesn't have much of a chance. She's been in there for seven months, absolutely no improvement." She shrugged. "A sad story, hers. Her mother abused and neglected her, and her father never really showed up. She stole a car eventually and tried to run away. Her half-brother—that young man you're following—found her and convinced an adoption home to take her in with him. Then, they both got adopted into a nice family, but the boy got kicked out of the house. Hazel—that's the girl's name—was upset, but she stayed with the foster family. Then, the family was taking a drive and a pickup truck came roaring out of nowhere. Hit the little car on the side and Hazel took the brunt of the hit. Rest of the family survived, and the driver of the pickup was found to be drunk and high on cocaine. Amazing what one bad choice can do to so many lives."

By the end of this story, both my mother's and my mouths were hanging open. This is what Nico had to live with? His sister almost dead, his mother and other sister actually dead, and he was getting bounced around through foster families all alone? The lady at the desk shrugged again. "If you folks are the ones adopting Mr. di Angelo, I'd be careful. He's pretty unstable." My mother nodded and led me off down the hallway to where Nico was.

When we got into the room, I heard Nico talking quietly, "—say you're not ever gonna wake up. I don't believe that. You're a fighter, Hazel. I know you are. Don't give up. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, please try to understand what I'm saying." He paused, and then shifted a little. I could see a girl lying on the hospital bed, and I knew this was Hazel. She had dark, coffee colored skin and curly cinnamon colored hair. Her face was delicate, and she looked a little bit sickly. Tubes were connected to her nose and mouth, and needles secured with surgical tape were poked into her wrists and upper arms. Her chest moved slowly with soft, shallow breaths. A machine was monitoring her heart rate, beeping slowly and steadily.

Nico started talking again. His voice was thick with emotion, and I could tell he was trying not to break down. He smoothed some of her hair away from her forehead. "God, I forgot how curly your hair is. It's so pretty." Nico sniffed. He took a deep breath like he was trying to compose himself, and let it whoosh out in a great sigh. He slumped down in a chair beside the hospital bed. "God, Hazel. You can't leave me here all alone. You can't. It's not fair, how life can be torn away like this. You've been asleep for seven months. Seven god-damn months, Hazel." A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and down his cheek. He tried to wipe it away, but more fell. Soon he was shaking with silent sobs.

I felt like an intruder. I shouldn't be here, watching this. This was a private moment between Nico and his sister. I looked at Mom and tried to say silently that we should let him be for a few minutes, but she walked forward and rubbed Nico's shoulder soothingly.

He flinched. In a second he was standing, shoulders tense, fists clenched, body rigid. "Why did you follow me?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and rough from crying.

"We were worried," Mom said quietly. Nico glared again, his eyes still faintly red. He looked back at Hazel and trailed a fingertip along the side of her face.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," he said, his voice as bitter and icy as water from a snowmelt. "I've lived on the streets before; there's nothing in New York I can't handle."

Mom still looked plenty worried, but she let it slide. "Do you want to stay here longer, or are you ready to go?" Nico glanced at Hazel again, clenched his jaw, and whispered something. He then pushed past Mom and me and stalked out the door. I looked back at Hazel. She and Nico must've been close siblings. Obviously, her injury was enough to reach through that cold, tough outer shell that Nico hid behind.

We followed Nico back out to the parking lot. He was talking to a teenage guy with shaggy black hair that fell down into his dark blue eyes. He looked to be about the same age as Nico. The guy was wearing a black T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, revealing muscular, tattooed arms and shoulders. His blue jeans were torn at the knees, and beat-up gray Converse peeked out from the tattered cuffs. He was the same height as Nico, which meant he was pretty tall, and his arms were strong and heavily scarred. The guy looked like he had been living on the streets.

Nico acknowledged our arrival with a quick glance, the continued his conversation. "The fight is when, exactly?" he asked the tattooed guy.

"It'll be in four days—Saturday—in the old lot. We should be there around dusk. Red's sayin' no weapons, but bring your switchblade just in case it gets too outta hand."

Nico nodded and replied, "I might be a little late. All kinda depends on how fast I'm able to get there."

"We've been missin' you at the meets, Angel. When are you plannin' on coming back?"

Nico shrugged. "As soon as I can. Denise cracked down hard on it for the last few weeks." His voice lowered a bit, and he twitched his hand in out direction. "Besides, I don't know if this new family's gonna be as strict as she was about it."

Mom coughed lightly. "Nico, dear," she said gently. "Would you mind introducing us to your friend here?" Nico opened his mouth to answer, but the tattooed guy interrupted.

"Call sign's Thunder. Not givin' you my real name. Too dangerous." He looked me up and down, then said to me, "You're gonna be Angel's foster brother, huh?"

I blinked. "Angel?"

"Oh, that's right. That's not what you guys know him by. I mean Nico."

"Yep."

Nico cleared his throat. "Anyway, Thunder," he said. "Tell Red to expect me there. I don't care if he's still angry; I wouldn't miss this for the world." Thunder grinned crookedly. He flashed a quick sign that I didn't catch. Nico returned it just as quickly, and Thunder walked away, his step as quiet as a panther's.

Mom looked confused. She said, "Well. Nico, Percy, we'd better get home. Paul will be wondering what's keeping us." Nico and I walked over to the car. This time I sat with Nico in the back. I kind of wanted to see how he would react.

He didn't really do anything except look at me. Mom started the car, and Nico turned his head to look out the window. He looked so sad and melancholy, with his shaggy dark hair framing his pale, thin face and his dark clothes.

We were silent for the rest of the drive. When my mom pulled up into our apartment building's parking lot, Nico shifted a little bit. I saw a glint of metal flash from his jacket pocket, and I felt my heart rate quicken. I realized that Thunder hadn't been joking; Nico actually had a blade. I swallowed and sincerely hoped he never felt the need to use it. Then he moved again, and the hard, silvery glint was covered.

"Well, Nico," Mom said brightly. "This is where Percy, Paul and I live. I hope you'll find it to your liking!" Nico made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. Mom parked the car, and I helped Nico gather up his very few belongings. He quickly folded up the clothes, and I wondered if he had another weapon hidden there. His iPod went into his front jeans pocket, his pencil got tucked inside his jacket along his change of clothes, and he tucked his sketchpad under his arm.

We took the elevator up to our floor, and my mom pulled out her apartment key. She quickly flipped the lock and pushed open the door. "Paul, we're here! And we have Nico, too!" Paul poked his head around the corner, saw Nico, and grinned.

"Hello!" he said happily. "We're so glad to have you here. I'll be over there in a second—Percy's dog made a bit of a mess." He shot me a stern look, but I knew he wasn't at all upset. He liked my black mastiff, Mrs. O'Leary, just as much as I did.

Almost as if she was shot out of a cannon, Mrs. O'Leary bounded out of the living room and jumped on me, effectively knocking me to the ground. She barked happily and licked my face. I laughed and gave her a push. "C'mon, girl," I grunted. "You weigh almost as much as I do!" She barked loudly again and removed her massive paws from my chest. She saw Nico and leapt on him too. He grunted, but he didn't get knocked over. Mrs. O'Leary barked again and snuffled Nico all over, decided she liked him, and gave his pale face a swipe with her tongue. Nico laughed a little and ruffled her ears. She began to squirm all over the place, beating my legs with her tail as she tried to jump on Nico again.

Mom laughed. "Down, girl. Down." Mrs. O'Leary went back onto all fours. "Well, she seems to like you!" she told Nico. Nico's lips twitched a little bit, but then his face returned to its normal, brooding expression.

Paul came over and smiled at Nico. "Hello. I see you've met our dog. Well, she's more Percy's dog than anyone else's, but she seems to have found a new best friend!"

Nico shrugged. He muttered, "Animals usually don't like me."

Paul grinned. "Mrs. O'Leary is a little bit unusual. Just be careful; she likes to flop down in the middle of a doorway." Mom and Paul walked over to the kitchen, discussing dinner.

I looked over at Nico a little uncertainly. "Do you want me to show you to where you'll be sleeping and stuff?" Nico shrugged. I took that as a yes and led him off down a hallway to the right of the family room. I pushed open the second door on the right and said, "We'll be sharing a room, so I hope you don't mind." Nico shrugged again. I continued, "You've got that bed and dresser on the right. Mom wasn't sure what you're in to, so she decided that you could do the decorating." Nico nodded. "The bathroom is at the end of the hall. We leave with Paul to school, because he's a teacher at Goode High, which is where we're both enrolled. School starts next week, so you've got plenty of time to get settled in. Alright?" Nico made a small noise, and I assumed that he understood.

He walked into our room and set his stuff down on top of the bed. I waited nervously in the doorway, really hoping that he liked it. I didn't want to make a bad first impression. I was pretty sure he'd be here for a long time, despite the warnings his social worker had given us. I watched as he flopped onto the bed and sighed. He closed his eyes. "I'll come get you when it's time for dinner. That good?" Nico hummed softly, and I took that to mean he understood. Man, I thought. I was going to be doing a lot of guessing with this guy until he learned to open up.

I walked back to the kitchen and sighed. I knew one thing for certain. This was going to be very interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! I just realized that the first time I ever updated a story was last chapter so that's awesome for me! This is chapter three and I'm sorry it hasn't been put up sooner, but I hadn't started it before I posted chapter two. Enjoy anyway! Sorry for the wait, but you might just want to get used to it.**

_**Nico POV**_

I was flopped on the bed that I was going to be sleeping while I was staying with the Jacksons. Their place was much, much nicer than a few places I'd been before.

I heard Percy walk out of the room and sigh. I guess he was kind of surprised at me. He seemed very hesitant around me, either like he was afraid of me or really cared what I thought about stuff. Maybe a bit of both, I wasn't really sure yet.

I heard the padding of paws as the Jackson's dog trotted into the room. She jumped up on the bed and placed her head on my stomach. I opened an eye and looked at her big brown eyes and lolling tongue. She looked so comical. It wasn't really an expression you would expect on such a big dog. I laughed al little as she squirmed on the bed and whimpered at me. I reached over and rubbed her head. She woofed at me and licked my face. "I honestly don't get why you like me so much. Usually animals run away in the opposite direction if I get any closer than twenty feet to them." Mrs. O'Leary snuffled and poked her nose a little closer to my face. I ruffled her ears and she gave me a big doggy grin.

Just then, Percy popped in and said, "Mom says that if you're hungry, dinner's ready. She made lasagna and salad." I grunted, really preferring not to talk. I wasn't quite ready to open up to these people. They weren't my family. I didn't think they ever would be.

Percy blinked at me, getting the hint that I wasn't going anywhere. He said, "Well, if you're sure…" and left. Mrs. O'Leary licked my face one more time and jumped off the bed, stepping on my stomach a few times. She padded out of the room after Percy.

I huffed and grabbed my sketchpad, flipping through countless drawings. I found a clean page and began roughing out the outline of a person. It started off as a picture of my sister Bianca, but then it started looking more like someone else. Stopping abruptly, I frowned at the drawing. I was trying to guess where this person had popped up in my mind. I sighed and just let my pencil move over the paper. My brain shut down, and the picture began to take on features, details, and personality.

About fifteen minutes later, I finished the last stroke and put down my pencil. I frowned at the drawing again and studied it. It was a picture of a girl, about fifteen years old—the same age as me—with black clothes. She had two leather belts crossed over her hips in an X. Her black skinny jeans were slightly faded, and had rips along the thighs and knees. Her shirt was emblazoned with the song cover for Holiday by Green Day. Her black leather jacket was unzipped, and the collar was turned up. She had heavy silver chains dangling form her belt, loosely looped across her hips. She wore beaten up black Converse. Around her neck was a black, silver studded choker. Her face was lightly freckled across the bridge of her nose. She wore thick, dark eye makeup, but it didn't look excessive or fake, just dark.

Even though the picture wasn't colored, I knew that she would have bright blue streaks at the front of her hair. I knew her skin would be pale. And, most importantly, I knew her eyes would be electric blue and stormy.

I stared at it for a few more seconds. I knew I had never seen this person before in my fifteen years of life. She was beautiful, but her eyes looked fragile and broken. She seemed like she'd been knocked down too many times, and didn't want to get back up again. But somehow she appeared brave and strong.

"Nico?" I jumped up immediately, reaching for my switchblade, acting purely on instinct that came from living on the streets. In the doorway stood Sally, and I relaxed, though not much.

"What?" I muttered. I wanted to be left alone.

She frowned a little bit at me. "Nico, please at least act like you're happy to be here. Please treat Paul, Percy, and me with respect."

I rolled my eyes and said slowly, "Uh huh. Sure." She furrowed her brow lightly, like she couldn't figure out why I was being so difficult. I thought it was obvious—I wanted to see how much she could take before giving me the boot.

"I came in here to tell you that if you get hungry in the middle of the night, we have leftover lasagna in the fridge," Sally said, sounding a little bit stern. "Are you planning on eating at all during your time with us?"

I replied coldly, "That depends on if I'm hungry or not. Right now I'm not, so don't try to force me to eat." I knew there was a slight undertone of a threat beneath my words, and Sally certainly picked up on it.

She gave me a warning glance and said, "Nico, we do not make threats in this household. Please remember that." She finally noticed my sketchpad and said, "You draw?" I nodded stiffly. She smiled at me, already forgetting I'd been rude. "That's lovely. I used to draw, but I'm afraid I've lost the skill needed to make a decent drawing." I made a small noise in the back of my throat. Sally sighed softly and said, "I know this must be difficult for you. But I really want you to be able to open up and feel like you're with your family." I looked down at my drawing.

Finally I spoke. "That's really nice and all, but I know the drill here. I know I'm gonna get the boot before the first month is up. That's just what happens with me." I paused for a second and glanced up at Sally's face. She looked slightly confused. I continued, "You might think you're different than the other families who've tried to take me in. You're not. I've got more problems than you think I do." Sally's mouth was slightly open, and her eyes were wide.

Just then Percy came trotting in. "Hi, Mom," he said casually, completely oblivious to the conversation that just took place. "Hey, Nico." Sally looked at her son.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nah," Percy said. "I was just gonna grab some PJs and change awhile. I'm tired." Sally nodded.

"Alright." She stood and walked out of the room.

"Hey, Nico," Percy said to me. I turned my head just a little so I could see him out of my peripheral vision.

"Yes?"

"If you want, you can borrow some of my stuff. I noticed you've only got one other outfit." He turned to look at me. "And that doesn't look too comfortable to sleep in." I blinked. This was a little strange for me. Nobody had ever offered to lend me clothes before, and I wasn't sure if I was weirded out or touched. I think I was leaning more towards the "weirded out" side.

"I'm fine," I muttered.

Percy shrugged and said, "If you change your mind, I'm sure I can find something that'll work until we manage to get to the store." He pulled pajama pants and a T-shirt out of a drawer and trotted off to the bathroom. I sighed lightly and turned off the bedroom. I collapsed on my bed and stared out the window at the brightly lit New York skyline.

I lay there for a few minutes, listening to the buzz of the city. I heard Percy step into the room and shut the door. He flopped onto his bed and called softly, "'Night, Nico." I didn't respond, and soon my roommate was snoring softly. I sighed and let myself drift into a light, fitful sleep.

"_Run, Niccolo! Run, Bianca!" my mother screamed. "You must flee!" I was eight years old again, and my ten-year-old sister was dragging me along behind her, both of us running as fast as we could._

_Bianca was wiping tears from her eyes, and I was shrieking, "No! We can't leave Mama! NO! Mama!"_

"_Hush, Niccolo," Bianca sobbed. "Mama said we must run!" I wailed but kept running. Gunshots rang all around us. I stumbled over the uneven footing. A bullet flew past my left shoulder and I screamed. Another shot landed in the dirt next to Bianca. She cried out as clumps of dirt and rock sprayed up all around us. I slipped on a large rock slick with blood. I yelped as I crashed to the ground, taking Bianca with me. As we staggered upright, I risked a glance backward._

_A large, masked man was holding a small pistol to the back of Mama's head, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, "MAMA!" The masked man turned his head, and the uncovered lower half of his face twisted into a cruel smile. He pulled the trigger. Blood splattered the night. Mama slumped forward, a red stain blossoming along the back of her dress. I screamed, tears flooding my eyes. Bianca wailed, but continued to pull me along._

_We stumbled away from the blood-drenched horror. Bianca pushed me behind boxes of produce, and we huddled there together, unable to stop the violent trembling. Awful, hiccupping sobs wracked my body, and I clung to my sister. Her arms were around my shoulders, with one hand on my head and the other on my back. She held me so tightly it hurt, but I knew I was gripping her just as hard. Small mewling noises kept working past my throat and out of my mouth. Bianca was gasping and hiccupping, tears streaming down her cheeks and into my hair._

_Heavy footsteps thudded past our hiding spot, and I fought to keep myself silent. Bianca did the same. For one horrible moment, the booted feet lingered in front of the crates. Then, with an irritated growl, they stomped past. Bianca let out her breath in a trembling, ragged whisper. I couldn't stop the stinging tears that were racing down my face. Suddenly the crates toppled over. Both Bianca and I looked up in horror, and I fought back a terrified wail. Our mother's murderer was standing above us, his pistol aimed at Bianca. He leered, and a massive crack signaling the bullet's release rang through the night._

My eyes sprang open. I was panting heavily, and a scream was still trying to claw its way past the cold lump of emotion and terror in the back of my throat. I sat up quickly, looking around the room in a panic. My breathing slowed as I recognized Percy's bedroom. I swore softly. I'd been an idiot to think my nightmares would be gone, even after all this time. I stood up and paced around the room. I wasn't worried about waking Percy; years on the streets had given me an almost silent tread. Besides, he was out could, his mouth slightly open and his breaths coming deep and slow.

I swore again and walked out of the room, looking up and down the hallway to see if anyone was up. Mrs. O'Leary was curled up at the end of the hallway closest to the living room. I stepped over her lightly and walked into the kitchen. I hunted through the cupboards until I found where the glasses were, pulled one out as quietly as I could, and filled it halfway with water. I sipped at it, grateful for the coolness of the liquid on my throat. I drained the rest of it and placed the glass in the sink as quietly as I could. Sighing softly, I paced around the kitchen. I had no desire to go back to bed. Sleep meant nightmares. Nightmares meant fear, and right now, for me, fear meant weakness. The kitchen and the living room were barely lit by outside streetlamps and the moon. Even in the dead of night, lights were on, occasional cars hummed past, and a few people were roaming the streets.

I ached to be outside, but I couldn't leave the apartment and wish waking the Jacksons. I leaned against a window. I could see an alleyway, and three guys were seated around a pile of trash. They looked homeless, but I knew they might very well be anything else. I sighed again. Deciding to go back to Percy's room, I silently stepped over Mrs. O'Leary. I shut the door carefully behind me, wincing at the high, reedy creak of the hinges. I looked out the bedroom window, and for the first time noticed the fire escape. My lips twitched lightly in a smile.

Stepping carefully out onto the rickety fire escape, I worked my way up to the little ledge above the bedroom window. The slant of the ledge wasn't too steep, but I was still angled sharply enough to slip unless I was sitting. I sat down cross-legged on the ledge and tilted my head up towards the sky. The moon was a half-moon, and it glowed silver. Its pale light barely penetrated the orangey tinge of the street lamps. I searched the deep indigo sky for stars, but New York was too bright. The countless street lamps, headlights, lit windows and porch lights drowned out any starlight. I sighed. I missed the stars. It had been forever since I'd seen one…God, when was the last time I saw a star? I furrowed my brow, trying to remember. Had it really been _ten years_ since I'd seen a star? I scowled. The last time I can remember seeing a honest-to-goodness star was on the boat ride coming over to America from Italy…. I'd been five years old. I shook my head; that was much too long.

I sat on that ledge until the sky faded to gray, saying the sun was just below the horizon. I stood carefully, wincing as stiff muscles stretched and pulled. I walked back onto the fire escape and into Percy's room. Percy was still asleep, and there was no sign that he'd woken or even moved. I smiled faintly; it was safe to say nobody knew I'd been on the ledge. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. I wasn't ready to sleep, but the grayness outside began to lighten and I wasn't ready for the day to be here. Even though the light temporarily quelled my demons, it also meant that I couldn't hide as easily as I can in darkness. I sighed and pulled the pillow over the top of my head, welcoming the sudden absence of the dim glow.

Eventually the light became too bright to ignore, and I threw off the pillow. I squinted at the brightness and groaned. I sat up and tapped my fingers on my thigh. I was bored, and my stupid ADHD wasn't letting me sit still. I thought about the news Thunder had given me. The rumble was still on, no weapons, bring blade anyway, Red's still angry… I sighed. The guys and I had been getting ready for this rumble for so long, I'd forgotten what it was originally about. I vaguely remembered a spat about a spat about a repeated territory trespass, and I shrugged. That might be it. The Chains and the Flares were always ignoring the graffiti marks and hopping over to our territory. Red got fed up with whatever it was and set up a rumble. Three-way gang war… This was going to be very interesting. Why on earth had I gotten myself tangled up in all this violence?

I was jolted out of my thoughts as I heard a door open and shut again across the hallway. I got up and looked out of the bedroom door. Sally was walking out of her bedroom, already showered and dressed. She saw me and smiled. "Good morning, Nico," she said in a soft voice. "Did you sleep all right?" I shrugged and followed her into the kitchen. She started making coffee, and I stood in the kitchen doorway, not really sure what to do. Sally finished the coffee, poured herself a cup, and started making breakfast. Soon the kitchen smelled like waffles, and my stomach growled softly, despite my efforts to tell my body I wasn't hungry. Sally looked over to where I was standing, smiled again and said, "I know you're hungry, Nico. Come on over and sit."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she was already steering me towards the table. She pushed me down into a seat, slid a plate loaded down with food in front of me, and smiled—again. I looked down at the plate, and for a moment I was confused. The waffles weren't weird or anything—you know, if you ignored the fact that they were blue. I looked up at Sally. "Blue?" I asked, my confusion evident in my voice.

Sally laughed. She answered, "It's Percy's favorite color. Before I married Paul, Percy's other stepfather told me there was no such thing as blue food. We had a big argument over it, and ever since then I've made it a point to make blue food as often as I can. Don't worry; I haven't poisoned the waffles. You can eat them." I fought the smile that was trying to reveal itself and poked the waffles hesitantly with my fork. Stupid as it is, I trusted Sally. I knew that she didn't want to hurt me, but I still couldn't make myself eat the food she'd put in front of me. It was just force of habit. I did not eat anything I hadn't gotten myself. I didn't want to hurt Sally's feelings, though, so I took a small bite.

The waffles tasted wonderful, but I was still trying to get over the fact that they were blue. My brain was saying "Stop freaking out; you know the damn waffles are safe to eat" but my instinct was yelling, "Don't eat them! If it's blue that's a sign saying _something is up!_" I sighed; the waffles reminded me of something Mama used to do for breakfast. She usually made toast, and Bianca and I hated it when she left butter clumps all over. So every morning she would spread it around carefully with Bianca and I watching on the sides to make sure she did it right, and she always did. She would laugh at our scrutiny, and get out the cinnamon. She'd make little designs all over the butter with it. Bianca and I loved it. Every day she would personalize the cinnamon designs. I remember one morning, she did little cinnamon playing cards on my piece, and she told me they were Mythomagic cards. I had giggled and Bianca had rolled her eyes and laughed.

My breath caught as the happy memory was shredded by the much more recent nightmare. Mama's smiling face turned into the masked man's cruel sneer, and the toast became bloodstains. I saw Mama slumped over, blood pooling around her. I pulled in a sharp breath and set my fork down. Rubbing a hand across my forehead, I tried to push away thoughts of my nightmare. Sally noticed what I was doing and asked, "Are you all right, Nico?" I nodded slightly, not trusting my voice. She reached over and rubbed my arm. I flinched away slightly. I felt no regret for that, even though Sally looked a little bit hurt.

"Don't touch me," I muttered softly, and noticing Sally's expression, I added in an even quieter tone, "please."

She nodded and said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to push you, but I'm just so used to the way Percy acts that I'm a little clueless here." I understood what she was trying to say, but that didn't make it any less painful for me. She had no clue how to deal with a difficult teen like me. Sally was completely in the dark. I sighed.

Sally said, "Eat as much of your breakfast as you can. Paul is going to take you on a tour of Goode High today. You missed the orientation for newly enrolled students in June—"—I rolled my eyes; of course I missed the thing. I didn't even know the Jacksons _existed _until yesterday—"—So Paul is going to give you an individual tour so you're not completely lost on your first day." I nodded, poking the waffles around a little bit more, and finally started eating again.

I finished one of the waffles, and that was about as much as I could handle right then. I looked at Sally. Speaking in as low of a voice as I could, I said, "Sorry. That's as much as I can eat right now." Sally nodded and took my plate. I felt slightly guilty that I was wasting all of that great food, but I brushed it off. A wasted waffle or two wouldn't kill me. There were plenty of things that could and would kill me, but waffles weren't one of them.

Paul walked into the room, all showered and dressed. He smiled at me and asked, "Was your first night good, Nico?" I nodded almost imperceptibly and asked, "When's the tour thing?" Paul laughed a little. "I have never met someone who willingly takes a tour of a school over summer break," he said to Sally. "It's kind of refreshing. So many kids are so reluctant about school." Sally smiled, and I wrinkled my nose a little bit. I wasn't excited about the tour; I just wanted to get the stupid thing over with. I waited for him to answer my question.

After a minute of no response, I said, "You didn't really answer my question very well." Paul started a little bit. "Sorry," he said. "Just thinking. But I was actually going to take you now. More of the staff goes out in the morning, and I was going to introduce you to a few of your teachers. That all right?" I groaned inwardly. More people. Ugh.

I nodded. "Okay."

Paul smiled. "Great!" he said in a voice that had _way_ too much happy. "Just let me find the car keys and we'll be off!" He began hunting around the house looking for the keys. He looked like he was doing some sort of screwed up dance. Sally watched him, smiling a little.

She looked over at me, shook her head, and said, "You think he would learn that the keys can't move by themselves." She held up her hand, and a glint of silver told me she had the car keys dangling from her fingertips. I smiled a little bit, and Sally called, "Paul, stop dancing all over the living room and come in for a minute." Paul stumbled over Mrs. O'Leary as he walked—very noisily—into the kitchen.

He saw the keys in Sally's hand and exclaimed, "Aha! There they are!" He put up his hand like he was asking Sally to throw the keys.

She rolled her eyes, handed her husband the keys, and said, "Get out of here, crazy."

Paul grinned and said, "If your Highness commands it!" I coughed softly, reminding them that I was in the room.

They looked over, saw my expression, and chuckled. "Sorry," Paul said lightly. "Come on then, Nico. Lots to do!" He walked out of the apartment, leaving me no choice but to follow him. I thought to myself, Let's get this over with, and walked out of the apartment.

_**Sally POV**_

I watched Nico and Paul walk out of the apartment, a small frown creasing my forehead. There was just something about Nico that made me feel a little uneasy, like I was handling a new type of nuclear weapon. I just didn't know how to act around him. The way he walked made me think he was used to being watched and hunted. And the way he froze up at breakfast… He's seen something a kid his age should never have to see. I just wished he would open up and talk to me. I know I'm a new person, and he's not ready to trust me. But he's not giving me a chance either.

I sighed. Nico would learn how to trust people. He'd have to.

I heard Percy coming down the hallway, and I started putting together his breakfast. I really hoped we'd made the right choice in adopting Nico.

**Well! Third chapter is FINISHED! I hope you all liked it! Again sorry for the wait but I tried to make this a little longer. I'm out for the summer so I should be able to post and write more often. No promises though**

**I'd just like to put this out there: THIS IS A THALICO FIC. Only Thalico. No Percico. I got a PM asking if there is going to be Percico. No. Read the summary. I have nothing against gays or anything but in my world Nico is bi. He never said outright that he is only into guys. It is a possibility that he's into girls too! (Don't you crush my hope here. I REALLY want Thalico to happen in BoO. Don't judge.)**

**Review please! I love them! Just don't flame!**

**~tiney**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! I'm back! So this is chapter 4, and hopefully it's long enough for you. I've been working on making my chapters longer, 'cause usually they're kinda short. So yeah.**

**On a different note, SUMMER BREAK IS ALMOST OVER! D: I have to go back to school in a week, and it sucks... But I really like my school so far so maybe it won't be too bad. I managed to make a friend in the eight and a half days I was actually enrolled, so I'll actually know someone! Yay for me!**

**Okay, no more of that. If you guys are on this site, you're trying to read fan-made stories, not listen to the fan-authors rambling on about stuff nobody really cares about. Here's the chapter; enjoy!**

_**Nico POV**_

Paul pulled up to Goode High and said, "Here we are!" I groaned silently. We got out of the car and Paul led me to the front entrance. A few administrators saw us and waved, calling out greetings. One woman came over, smiling.

"Good morning, Paul," she said in a bright, cheery voice. I disliked her instantly. She just seemed so... so false.

Paul greeted her with a smile and a handshake. They started blathering on about first lesson plans and the like. Paul suddenly seemed to remember I was standing right next to him, and he exclaimed, "Oh! I'm being rude. Nico, this is your math teacher, Mrs. Donally. Jennifer, this is Nico di Angelo. He's living with Sally, Percy, and I. Mrs. Donally smiled at me.

"Hello, Nico!" she said brightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" I forced a small smile.

"Same," I muttered. She extended her hand, and I shook it briefly. Her hand was warm and powdery. She exchanged a few more words with Paul, waved at me, and walked away. As soon as she turned her back, I wiped my hands on my jeans, trying to dispel the powdery feeling.

"Okay, Nico," Paul said. "Let's continue the tour. Over on the left is the front office. That's where you'll pick up your schedule on the first day. Don't worry; I made sure most of your classes are with one of Percy's friends. Leo will be able to help you out if you get lost, and is pretty easy to get along with. Most of Percy's classes are in the same general are as yours." I nodded, but on the inside I was grimacing. Apparently Paul thought I needed a couple of babysitters to get me through the tenth grade. I had a pretty good memory. I most certainly did not need anyone to show me around the place after I'd already seen it.

Paul continued the tour, showing me around campus. I saw the maths building, the music and arts building, the science building, and the library. Finally, Paul stopped at one last building, saying, "This is the library. It has classrooms around it, which is where your English and foreign language classes are held." He pointed across the campus over at a large green area. "That's the gymnasium, football fields, and track. We're not going over there today, but you'll see it soon enough." We started walking back to the parking lot, and another group of teachers and administrators came over to talk to Paul. I shook hands with a few more people, faked a few more smiles, and finally escaped.

I sighed as I got back in the car. Paul got in and asked, "What do you think? Do you like Goode so far?" I nodded mutely. This school was definitely nicer than a few I'd been sent to.

We pulled out of Goode's parking lot, and I remembered that Percy had sad Paul teaches at Goode. I had a mini-battle with myself before finally deciding to phrase the question. "Paul," I said, keeping my voice low, "what subject do you teach?"

He looked surprised that I cared. I didn't really, but I felt that I owed him this much. I hadn't shown much interest during the tour. "English," he said, perking up a little. "And sometimes, I do a little bit of Greek mythology." I sat up a bit more at that. I loved Greek mythology. Mama used to tell Bianca and me stories of heroes and monsters and gods—I blinked hard. That made me remember my nightmare too.

Paul noticed my interest, and apparently decided it was a great conversation starter. "Do you know a bit about Greek mythology?" he asked. I nodded, not wanting to speak any more than I had to. "Who's your favorite god?" he persisted.

I answered reluctantly, "Hades." Paul looked so pleased at this one word, I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from snorting.

"Why?" he asked, clearly desperate to keep me talking, now that he'd gotten me started. It was rather pathetic.

I debated on answering this question too. "He's misunderstood," I said slowly. "It's not his fault that he got to represent the dead."

Paul agreed and said, "I like Athena. But that just might be my teacher side showing through." I snorted softly. Right then I decided living with the Jacksons might not be all that bad.

For the rest of the car ride, I stared out the window with a hand in my jacket pocket, rubbing my finger across the flat of my blade. I knew Percy had seen it yesterday. I made sure of that. I wasn't entirely sure why I had done it. Whatever the reason, it still had intimidated him. I was almost surprised Sally hadn't given me a run-over with a metal detector as soon as she saw me in the adoption home. I smiled as I remembered one family that had tried to take me in. The father had brought me home to the rest of his family. His wife had taken one look at me and said, "Check him over. I don't like the looks of him." Of course, the man had given me a pat-down, had found my blade, and taken me right back to Denise and the rest of the system.

The Jacksons weren't anything like that. They'd smiled at me and welcomed me into their home, like they didn't care that I was a difficult teen. They were just happy I was there.

I was still lost in thought when Paul pulled up to the apartment building, and when I came back to myself, I realized my finger was bleeding. I swore softly. I must've pressed on the edge of my blade accidentally. When Paul turned to look at me, I jammed my hand back into my pocket. He frowned slightly, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

We walked into the apartment, and Mrs. O'Leary attacked us with sloppy dog kisses. Paul laughed a little and said, "Down, dog. Yes, we missed you to. Calm down." She woofed and trotted into the living room.

We followed her in. Percy looked up from a book with a picture of a horse on the cover and grinned. "How did you like Goode?" he asked. I shrugged. He looked back down at his book and wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to read," he grumbled. "It's too hard. The words are all messed up."

"Are you dyslexic?" I asked before I could stop myself. Percy looked up, startled.

"Yeah," he answered. "Mom says if I keep reading, it won't act up quite as much, but it's not really working." He looked over at me. "How about you?" I nodded slightly. I moved a little closer to where he was and tried to read the title on the cover of the book he was holding, but the words blurred and twisted. Percy noticed and said, "This one's King of the Wind by Marguerite Henry. My dad sent it for my last birthday. I think he meant it as a joke, but Mom still wants me to read it." I nodded. I vaguely remembered Hazel telling me a little bit about it. She loves horses, so, naturally, she ignored her dyslexia and struggled through it best she could. I didn't really pay too much attention when she was explaining it. Like I said before, I'm not really an animal person.

Sally looked up. "Percy, it's good for you to read. Besides, you haven't been reading most of the summer. I don't want to to be overwhelmed in the first week of school." Percy sighed and opened up his book again, muttering under his breath. Sally cut him a look and he quieted.

I sat down on the floor in front of the couch, tapped my fingers against my thigh, and hummed softly under my breath. I sat there for a few minutes until I got bored, then stood back up and walked back to the bedroom. I grabbed my iPod, flopped on my bed, and selected a random song. "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park started playing, and I turned up the volume to block out any other sounds. I sighed and let myself drift off into a light sleep.

_**Sally POV**_

About a half hour after Nico walked to his and Percy's bedroom, I let Percy put down the book. "We need to get your school supplies," I told him. "Go get your shoes on while I get Nico."

He sighed and said, "I hate shopping for school stuff." My son rubbed a hand across his eyes and corrected himself, "I just hate shopping, period." I laughed and walked down the hallway.

I walked to Nico and Percy's bedroom and knocked softly on the door. I didn't get a response, so I cracked the door open a little and peeked in. Nico was sprawled across his bed, sound asleep. His earbuds were in, and as I moved closer to wake him up, I heard his music blasting loudly. I winced a little. He was going to hurt his ears like that. I gently pulled the earbuds out and held them a little ways away from my head. The volume was enough to make my ears ring, and the tiny speakers were four inches away from my face. Some type of punk rock was playing, and I winced again. It was definitely not my favorite type of music.

I found Nico's iPod and stopped his music. I set it aside and started to wake him up, but his eyes were already open. I guess he woke up when I paused whatever song he had been listening to. He blinked up at me and sat up. "What?"

I responded, "I think it's time we do our school shopping. I want you to come along so we can also get you some more clothing." I looked at his current attire and added, "School-appropriate clothing." Nico lifted an eyebrow. I gestured to his black torn jeans and worn-out black T-shirt. "Those are in pretty rough shape, and I can't imagine that you want to wear the same thing the entire school year." I started to walk out of the room, then turned around and asked, "Well? Come on." Nico closed his eyes for a second, then pursed his lips and followed me out.

We walked to the front door, where Percy was waiting. He smiled at Nico. Nico set his jaw. I felt the same confusion I'd been feeling for a while now rise again. I couldn't understand why he pushed everyone away. Percy was making an effort to be his friend, but Nico just wouldn't lower his barriers at all.

We all got into the car. As we started driving, I turned on the radio. A news station came on, and the reporter was saying, "—so keep your eyes open for this notorious teenage criminal. Again, a description: roughly five feet, eight inches; shaggy black hair a little above the shoulders; black clothes including a leather jacket, black Converse high-tops, and a black leather belt; dark brown eyes; and a silvery scar along the left side of his neck. The name is—"

Nico suddenly lunged forward and turned the radio to a different station. I jumped a little, startled by his sudden movement. Percy was looking confused too. "What was that about?" he asked Nico.

Nico shrugged. He muttered, "The news in never anything interesting."

"You didn't have a problem with it until the dude on there was going to give a name," Percy countered.

"I didn't hear it was on until then. I decided that it wasn't interesting, so I changed the station. Do you have a problem with that?" Nico returned sharply.

Percy sighed and said, "No. Sorry." He glanced out the window, then heard was was playing on the radio. He frowned at Nico. "What the heck is on?" I cocked my head to the music. A male voice was singing:

_Do you have the time_

_To listen to me whine_

_About nothing and everything_

_All at once?_

_I am one of those_

_Melodramatic fools_

_Neurotic to the bone_

_No doubt about it!_

Nico stared over at Percy with a look of incredulity. "It's Green Day," he said slowly, like he was talking to a kindergartener.

Percy wrinkled his forehead. "What kind of name is that?"

Nico looked astounded that he had to explain this to my son. "It's just their band name," he said slowly. "They're one of the most popular punk bands _ever_. There's no way you've never heard of them."

Percy shook his head. "Uh, no. Name doesn't ring a bell. Neither does—what is this song called?"

"Basket Case."

"Right. That doesn't ring a bell either."

Nico was absolutely stunned. He looked over at me and demanded in an accusing tone, "Why have you never introduced him to Green Day?"

I answered, "I've never heard of them until now. When did they start playing?'

Nico shook his head slowly. "You've never...?" He blinked and sighed. "They became a band in 1988. Well, Billie Joe Armstrong and Michael Pritchard formed a band with John Kiffmeyer and called it Sweet Children, but then they changed the name to Green Day. Then Kiffmeyer quit and was replaced by Frank Edwin Wright III, more widely known by his stage name, Tre Cool, given to him Larry Livermore, the lead singer of his old band, The Lookouts. Michael Pritchard also adopted a stage name: Mike Dirnt, because of the sound he'd make when pretending to play his bass. By the time they released their second album, _Kerplunk_, they were already pretty popular." He shook his head again. "How have you _not_ heard of them?"

Percy shrugged. "They sound interesting."* Nico stared at Percy open-mouthed for another few seconds, then shook his head slightly and turned to look out the window. By now, the song had played itself out, and another person was speaking. They were saying something about a tribute to "one of the greatest punk bands out there" so I guess Nico was right. Green Day was pretty popular. Another song started playing, and the same singer started on about something—I couldn't make out the lyrics. I sighed and concentrated on driving.

About halfway to the store, the Green Day tribute was over, and Nico reached forward and changed the station again. He kept flipping through channels until he found on that he obviously recognized. I glanced back and was shocked to see him smiling. Nico sat back and tapped his hand along to the rhythm of the song. I smiled a little. It was good to know that this kid had another expression besides a grumpy scowl.

The chorus to the song came up, and I heard humming. I glanced back yet again—if I kept this up, I was going to get us killed—and was greeted by the sight of Nico singing along under his breath. This time I grinned. Now I had something to reach out to him with—music.

We pulled into Walmart, and I parked the car. Percy unfolded his school supply list and wrinkled his nose. "They always make the list so _long..._We never use half the stuff anyways."

We got out of the car and walked into the store. I turned to the boys and said, "Alright, you guys. I need to pick up a few other things, so I'm going to let you do your school shopping by yourselves. Pick out the essential supplies, then you can pick out something to personalize your binders or folders a little bit. After I finish my shopping, I'll come find you guys and then we'll get you some school clothes. Can you guys handle that without"—I shot a look at Percy—"terrorizing half of the store, or setting the produce section on fire?" Percy squirmed a little uncomfortably but nodded. I pulled a piece of paper out of my purse, handed it to Nico, and said, "That's your supply list. It's pretty much the same as Percy's, so most of it will in the same spot. Okay?" Nico nodded, and I said, "All right then. See you guys in a little bit." I started walking towards the cleaning aisle.

***BESTIE! I QUOTED YOU! (inside joke)**

**That's chapter four! I'm not going to have as much time to write, 'cause school is going to take up a lot of time, and I have cross-country practice to work into my schedule now. That means that my updates might take even longer (hehe...sorry...) and I'll have other things at the front of my mind. Sorry! But rest assured, I intend to keep this story going and alive. It just might take longer. **

**Reviews please! No flames!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay! I am so so so so sorry for not updating! I have two excuses: laziness and school. I'm so sorry! Please enjoy this, and I had to cut the thing in half so most of chapter six is done!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or Green Day. I do own Thunder, Taz, Red, the Chains, the Flares, and Skittles (the OC, not the candy).**

_**Percy POV**_

Nico and I watched Mom walk away to the cleaning aisle. I looked over at Nico, and we walked over to the school supplies. I glanced down at my list and made a face. I could already tell that this school year was going to be painful. The first thing on the list was an inch-and-a-half thick binder for each class except PE, which meant I needed six binders. I was going to have one heck of time trying to keep track of all those. I sighed and said, "What's the first thing on your list, Nico?"

He pulled a face. "Binders and dividers. Why do we need a separate binder for each class?"

I shrugged. "Something about helping students with their organizational skills. I prefer one big binder, but then it's like a big black hole that eats, no kidding, everything. I lost a middle school assignment in one, then I reused the binder last year and found the assignment sometime around winter break."

Nico snorted. "Have you tried color-coding? That worked for me."

I shook my head. "Nope. Maybe I will this year." Holy cow, Nico was talkative right now. If that band – what was it called? Green Day? – if Green Day got him this relaxed, I would play any song of theirs on every music-playing device I could. … Well, maybe not. That would get loud and confusing, but you know what I mean. This was just plain awesome.

Nico and I starting pulling binders off the racks. I decided to give Nico's color-coding thing a try. I out blue, gray, red, green, black, and white binders. Glancing back at Nico, I saw that he had picked out all black and dark red binders. "No color-coding this time?" I asked. Nico shook his head. I grabbed six packs of dividers, made a face, consulted my list, and sighed, grabbing a twenty-pack of pens off the shelf. I lost these things all the time. These guys would probably be gone by the time the second week was over.

Nico and I finished collecting all of our supplies after a few minutes. My arms were filled with binders, dividers, pens, clips, pencils, notebooks, paper, and a _ton_ of sticky-notes. Apparently I had a sticky-note-obsessed teacher. No one is ever going to use—I checked my list—twenty-five packs of sticky-notes in one school year. That is just not possible.

I looked back over at Nico. His arms were just as full, but somehow he had manage to stack his stuff so that it was easier to carry. "What're you gonna pick out to personalize all of this stuff?" I asked, hoping maybe I would learn a little bit more about Nico if he answered.

He shrugged. "Let's see what they've got first. I don't know if they have what I want." I nodded, and we browsed up and down the aisles, idly looking for stick-on decals or something. After about twenty minutes of browsing, Nico sighed and said, "Nope. Don't have it."

I was just about to ask what it was when I saw Mom walking back towards us, her shopping cart filled with paper towels, tissues, soap, hand sanitizer, and a whole bunch of other things. "Are you guys ready to go?" she called.

"Yeah," both Nico and I called back. We walked over and carefully placed our stuff in the cart, trying not to cause a supply avalanche. Walking to the clothes section, I studied Nico. His eyes were flicking around the store, watchful and a little uneasy. Every time someone looked in his direction, he glared hard until they looked away uncomfortably. His shoulders were uptight and tense, and his fists were clenching. A bigger guy walked past us, bumping Nico. Nico's eyes narrowed at a tattoo on the big guy's forearm. I saw his right hand drift towards the pocket in his leather jacket, where his blade was. Worried that this was going to escalate into something big, I nudged his arm lightly. He flicked his dark eyes over to me, and I shook my head ever so slightly. Nico gave a slight huff and lowered his hand. I glanced over at Mom to see if she'd seen any of that little scene. She was humming and pushing the cart along, completely oblivious. I sighed softly. Good.

We walked past a police officer who was chatting amicably with another customer. I had no idea what a police officer was doing just sitting around and chit-chatting with people in Walmart, and I decided that it wasn't worth wondering over. But when Nico noticed him, which was just before I did, he slowly reached up and turned up his jacket collar. He moved over to the other side of me, and when I glanced in his direction confusedly, he mouthed, "Just stay there." I furrowed my brow, suspicions forming in my mind, but I did as he said. We were soon out of sight of the police officer, and Nico relaxed, though not much. I frowned again. Why would Nico have any reason to be edgy around police? Had he had an unpleasant run-in with an officer before?

I shook my head to clear out those thoughts. Nico might look kind of suspicious, but there was no reason for me to suspect anything of him. Right?

_**Nico POV**_

I slowly pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse. I rolled my shoulders a little, attempting to unclench my knotted muscles. I glanced furtively over my shoulder. The officer didn't appear to notice me at all, but I still felt uneasy.

I was thankfully jolted out of my little anxiety attack when Sally said brightly, "Clothes! Percy, you already know what you need to get, so meet Nico and me back over here in about twenty minutes or so." Percy sighed and nodded. He wandered off, trailing his finger along the shelves. Sally turned around and smiled. "Can you turn around for a second?" she asked. "I just want to check the sizing on your shirt."

_No,_ I thought._ I can tell you my own shirt size. Don't you dare touch me. _When I didn't exactly answer or turn around, she just walked behind me and pulled lightly on the collar of my shirt. Her fingertips grazed the back of my neck, and I tensed a little.

"Relax," she told me. "I'm not going to strangle you." She found the tag, hummed lightly, and removed her hand from the back of my shirt. She then started moving up and down the aisles, looked back at me, and motioned for me to follow her. I sighed and moved to her side.

"I'll assume you want black, right?" Sally asked with a smile.

I snorted a little. It struck me as funny that she knew me so well already. "Yeah," I said, "but I like red, blue and gray too. Just as long as it's on the darker side of the spectrum."

Sally laughed. "All right. We'll see what we can do." We moved up and down the aisle, with Sally pulling shirts off the shelves and holding them up to me, staying within my preferred color range. We settled into a little pattern: Sally holding a shirt up to me, placing it in the cart or putting it back, and me picking out the types and styles I liked. I was actually enjoying this. It was a temporary reprieve from my messed-up life. This felt like something normal teenagers would do with their parents, and I thoroughly appreciated it.

Sally picked up a black-and-red heather hoodie and showed it to me. "Do you want this one?" she asked. "It's nice. Besides, I don't think a leather jacket will be the most comfy thing to wear if it's only a little chilly outside." I wrinkled my brow.

"Sure.." I said hesitantly, "but you really don't have to. It's already really kind of you to buy me new clothes..." I trailed off as she placed the hoodie in the cart and smiled.

"It's all right, Nico. It's no trouble at all. Consider it a 'welcome to the family' gift, if you want." Sally glanced at her watch. "We'll grab you a couple pairs of jeans, find Percy, and then we'll be ready to go."

Finding jeans wasn't difficult. It took me about two minutes to grab two pairs that would fit. I plopped them in the cart just as Percy walked up with his things. He put them in the cart and sighed.

"Done," he said with relief. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, Percy, we are," Sally said with a laugh. "Let's go, boys."

Percy and I trailed behind the cart and Sally. It was a companionable silence, and I realized that for the first time in years I felt right at home. I smiled; it was a feeling I wouldn't mind getting used to.

The checkout was relatively quick, thankfully. I'd already had a couple of close calls, and we'd only been in the store for an hour, tops. I was itching to get out of here.

The cashier finished scanning our items and asked Sally to swipe her card. I started tapping my foot impatiently on the ground. This was taking too long. Stupid ADHD.

Finally, the checkout was finished, and the cashier sent us on our way with a cheerful, "Have a good school year!"

Yeah, right.

Sally scanned her receipt, crossing things off of her mental checklist. Percy and I walked just behind her again, squinting in the bright August sunlight. Sally clicked her keys a couple of times, and we found the car and put our stuff in the trunk. Tired, Percy and I climbed in. I settled into my seat with a sigh and rested my chin on my hands. God, shopping shouldn't be this tiresome, I thought.

The drive home was uneventful, except for Percy shooting me the occasional curious glance. Oh, man. He was going to want an explanation on the whole guy-and-police-officer thing. I was not looking forward to having to brush him off, since the truth would most likely get me kicked out. I didn't really want to be sent away from this home.

Sally, Percy, and I walked up to the apartment. As soon as Sally opened the door, Mrs. O'Leary shot out of the opening and took off, full speed, down the stairs and baying. Sally gave a startled "Oh!" and nearly dropped the bags she was carrying. Sighing, she looked over to Percy and me. "Would you boys mind getting her? I'll take your stuff inside."

Percy smiled at her and put his bags down. I said, "No problem," and set mine down too. We both ran after her. "Which way did she go?" I asked Percy.

"Umm..." Percy glanced off to both his left and his right. "No clue. You wanna try splitting up and see?"

"Sure," I answered. "But I don't know where I'm going, so if I get lost, I'm blaming you."

"I don't think you're the type of person who gets lost easily."

We peeled off in two different directions. Percy went to check downstairs, and I decided to check the current hallway and upstairs. Stopping at the base of the stairwell, I cocked my head and listened for Mrs. O'Leary's tremendous bark or her loud, thumping footsteps. After a couple of seconds, a startled yelp and frantic paws sounded over my head. I smiled a little bit and started up the stairs. I had only gone up three of them when the object of my search bolted down the stairs and nearly bowled me over.

I laughed and ran after her, calling, "Hey! Percy, get back up here!"

A muffled shout echoed up the base of the stairwell. "Coming! Chase her to the apartment!"

I rolled my eyes. How exactly was I supposed to do that without another person?

Percy joined me, and we managed to corner the dog after chasing her into every possible area _except_ where we needed her to go. She wagged her tail at us and gave us a big-eyed dog grin. Percy laughed and knelt in front of the massive animal. "Dog, you are absolutely crazy," he growled at her, ruffling her ears. Mrs. O'Leary woofed and licked his nose. Sighing, Percy stood up, hooked his fingers in her chain collar and said, "Luckily for you, I love you too much to send you back to the pound." Looking over at me, he puffed out his cheeks and laughed. "We got a workout chasing this goofball, didn't we?"

We led Mrs. O'Leary back to the apartment, both of us keeping a couple of fingers looped in her collar. I wasn't eager to run around the building again, chasing a dog. She was such a big animal, we didn't need to reach at all to keep our hands on the chain.

Percy opened the door, and Mrs. O'Leary trotted inside, her tongue lolling out of the corner of her mouth. Sally looked over at us and smiled. "Thank you," she said. "Do you boys want lunch?"

"Yes!" Percy and I chorused. We both sat down, and Sally put plates with sandwiches and chips and strawberries down in front of us. We thanked her and ate.

After I finished, I just sat there for a minute or so and looked around the apartment. I smiled a little, grateful for the home the Jacksons had provided. I sat at the table, just thinking, until Percy startled me.

He'd snapped his fingers a little close to my face, and before either of us knew it, I had grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the table. I blinked and realized that I'd just responded to a simple snap of his fingers like I would have if he'd swung his fist at me. I hastily released his wrist.

"Sorry," I said quickly, feeling a little ashamed. Geez, these..._nice people_ are rubbing off on me. I usually would've pinned his hand to the table and threatened him, but no. This time, I apologized.

Percy stared at me for a second. "Dude," he said. "_Whoa._"

"I'm sorry," I said again. Dammit. Again with the apologizing. "Force of habit."

"Whoa," Percy said again. "Those are crazy reflexes, Nico."

I snorted a little. "Just a tip here: try not to startle me too often. I tend to react kinda violently sometimes."

Percy huffed a little. "Yeah, I noticed, thank you very much."

My little smile turned into a grin. We sat and talked a little. Percy chatted a bit about his life and a little about friends at school. I sat and listened to him. I ended up learning that he actually had a half-brother named Tyson, who lived with their dad. I also ended up telling Percy about Hazel. Not all about her, but just the little things. Percy was a good listener, to be honest. He paid attention as I talked about her love for horses and her beautiful drawings. I kept talking, too, gradually forgetting that Percy was still there and listening.

I stopped when my eyes started to prickle with tears. I blinked hard and drew in a breath, trying to get rid of the lump of emotion that had formed in my mind. Percy reached over and gave my wrist a light, quick squeeze. I blinked again and gave him a slight, fake glare.

"We will not speak of this, Jackson," I said in a low voice. "You are to forget everything that just happened."

Percy laughed. "Gotcha, tough guy. Let's go get our stuff unpacked."

We grabbed our bags of school supplies (blech) and took it to the bedroom. I dumped all of the stuff out onto my bed. I looked at the blank fronts of the binders, then pulled out a Sharpie. As I drew on the cover, Percy came over and sat down next to me. I continued my drawing, covering the lighter, sketchy lines with thick, firm ones. After a minute or so, Percy commented, "That looks really cool. Who taught you to draw like that?"

I shrugged. "Hazel really liked—likes—to draw. I guess I picked up a little from her. But then, after her—" I cleared my throat, "—accident, I just sorta started teaching myself."

Percy smiled at me. "I can't draw for crap. I can't even draw stick people."

I laughed. "Stick people are not difficult, Jackson."

"Says the fricking artistic genius over here."

I snorted. "They're really not."

"Yes they are!"

I shook my head and smiled. "Okay, man. If you say so."

Percy gave a definitive nod. "I do say so." I continued my drawing, letting him watch over his shoulder. Eventually the drawing began to take shape, and Percy made an irritated grunt. He bumped my shoulder lightly. "Stop being so talented. I feel insecure about my own non-existent art skills."

I snorted and finished the wolf drawing on the cover of the binder. I picked it up and moved it to the other side of me, then grabbed another. This binder was black, so I pulled a silver Sharpie out of my jacket pocket and began another drawing.

After a while, all of the binders were covered in black and silver Sharpie drawings. I capped the markers and stuck them back in my pocket. Percy huffed again, and I smiled. Surveying my work, I decided that the archer drawn in sliver was my favorite. It showed a young woman dressed in silver camouflage, with an arrow nocked and the bowstring taut. I squinted down at the face. It looked disturbingly similar to the girl I drew yesterday. I frowned. It was driving me crazy not knowing who she was.

Deciding not to dwell on it, I turned to Percy and said, "Do you want me to decorate your binders?"

He looked at the drawings and nodded. I picked up his green binder and started drawing. I ignored any thoughts of the nameless girl and tried to focus on my sketch. I managed to finish the first one without any stray thoughts, and I set it aside. However, when I started the next drawing, my mind wandered to Saturday. Thoughts of Red and his threats began to swirl around in my mind, and a small voice began whispering in the back of my mind. _He'll kill you this time, _it murmured. _He said so. And you know how well he keeps his word._ My eye twitched a little.

_Shut up,_ I thought back to it.

It kept hissing and laughing. _He nearly did last time. You remember that knife. You remember that pain. You remember _everything_, don't you, Nico? Don't you? DON'T YOU_?

My hand jerked a little, making a stray line on the drawing I was working on. I didn't notice. "Shut up!" I growled.

"What?"

My head snapped up. Scanning the room, I saw Percy looking over at me, concerned. I'd forgotten he was there. "Not talking to you," I said. "Sorry."

Percy nodded slowly. "Ohhh-kay."

I ducked my head down, going back to my drawing. I forcefully shoved any thoughts of Red out of my mind. I was not going to listen to that little voice today.

When I got to the last binder, the gray one, Percy said, "Could you draw an owl on that one, please?"

I looked over. "Sure. Why an owl, though?"

He smiled a little. "It's my girlfriend's favorite animal."

I laughed. "Okay."

I drew an owl flying on the cover of the binder. When I finished, I held it up for Percy to see. "This okay?"

Percy took it and nodded. "That's perfect." He started putting the dividers and the loose leaf paper into the binders. I did the same.

By the time we finished organizing and putting everything away, Sally was calling us for dinner. I set the backpack Percy had given me at the foot of my bed. We walked into the kitchen and greeted Sally and Paul. Sally served dinner, and everyone enjoyed the meal. It was good, but my anxiety over the upcoming fight prevented me from actually enjoying it. Which was annoying, because I was hungry.

Everyone finished their food, and we sat and talked a little. I didn't talk too much unless someone asked me a question, which happened twice. Eventually the conversation died down, and I excused myself. I carried my dishes over to the sink and set them down. I quickly counted the days in my head. Today was Wednesday, which meant I had two days until I had to go get myself beaten up in the stupid rumble.

Well, I most likely wouldn't get beaten too badly. I was decent at dodging hits, but I didn't think I would escape with anything less than a bloody nose and a split lip.

I sighed. There's nothing better than getting your face all banged up right before the first day of school. Please take special note of the sarcasm.

I headed back to Percy's bedroom—well, I guess it's mine now, too, but whatever—and changed into some old sweatpants and a black undershirt. I was exhausted, even though I hadn't really done too much today. Well, maybe I had. Tour, school supplies...Yeah, okay. I'm allowed to be tired today. Nevermind.

I curled up underneath the covers, hoping I wouldn't have any nightmares tonight. Soon my eyes were drifting shut. I heard Percy enter the room and say something, and then I was sound asleep.

_Rain was falling down in sheets. A cold, stiff wind howled through the alleyways. A teenage girl, dressed in tattered jeans and a leather jacket, was huddling beside a dumpster, looking for some respite from the driving rain and the bitter wind. Her black hair hid her face, and water was running down her neck. Her body was wracked with tremors from the cold. _

_A massive man—muscular, not fat—melted out of the shadows. He brandished a small handgun. Sensing something, the girl's head shot up. Her electric blue eyes flashed as she saw the man. _

_The large man raised his hand and flicked his fingers a few times. Three more brawny guys appeared, and they all descended on her like wild dogs on a piece of meat. _

_The raven-haired girl kicked and fought, but they brought her down quickly. The dream started to fade, and the only sound was her scream echoing hauntingly through the alleys. _

TWO DAYS LATER

I paced around the bedroom. It was about two in the afternoon, and I was starting to feel my pre-fight twitchies. My ADHD was acting up, and I just could not keep still. My hands were doing this little jump-twitch thing, and my whole body would give a little shiver every few minutes. Percy was watching me with slightest hint of amusement visible on his face. Finally he said, "What's the matter with you? You look like somebody's just injected you with pure caffeine. Calm down."

I sighed loudly and flopped on my bed. "I can't. I've got ADHD too, remember? And it's going completely into overdrive. I. Can. Not. Calm. Down."

Percy laughed. "Well, go take a walk or something. You're making me feel all twitchy and nervous."

I smiled a little. "Maybe I will. Hey, tell Sally not to freak if I'm gone for a while, okay?"

Percy blinked. "Sure. But why would you be gone for longer than half an hour?"

I paused for a second. "Just, y'know, catching up with a couple of friends. And I'm bad at keeping track of time. Nothing to worry about." Man, I needed to brush off my lying skills.

I walked out of our room and to the front door. I slipped on my shoes and called to Sally, "Gonna take a walk. I have a bit more energy than I know what to do with."

"Okay. Be careful!" came her response.

I left the apartment, patting my jacket picket to make sure I had my switchblade. After I felt the handle, I quickened my pace. Turning down an alley, I let my feet guide me to an old hangout. I had a feeling my old friend Thunder would be there.

In about fifteen minutes, I was at an old gas station. It'd been marked for demolition for the past five years, but they never tore it down. Its windows were broken and dirty, and the boards across the door were loose. A couple of them swung down to from a little doorway. The paint was long gone, and the gas pumps were broken and dejected-looking. The old walls were covered in graffiti. The marks and signatures were all outdated—half of the gangs here had had all of their members killed or locked up. The other half were almost nonexistent or had long since picked better turf.

I ducked inside, and, sure enough, Thunder was leaning against the inside wall, inspecting the thin chain he wore around his neck. He looked up and saw me. Flicking his hair back from his face, he gave me a lazy grin.

"Thought you'd be here soon."

I smiled. "Yeah. Couldn't wait any longer. How's it been lately?"

Thunder shrugged lightly. "Same. Though Red's been growlin' at me for passin' on _your_ message. Still thinks we shoulda cut you up a little."

I snorted. "He's always thought that. But you know he's mostly talk." I grinned. "You only follow him 'cause he's got the title to the house."

Thunder laughed. "Damn straight. I might'a turned him in, 'cept for the fact he gives me a place to sleep at night."

I laughed with him. I'd missed my friend. We hadn't spoken very much since I'd been stuck into the adoption system.

We kept up the talk for a while, catching up on who's jailed, who's joined, who's managed to get themselves on Red's watchlist (really, everyone is. The man's paranoid), and really anything that sounded interesting.

The sun crept down toward the horizon. Thunder turned and squinted over at it. Sighing, he said, "Time to go beat some people up."

We ducked out of the old gas station, careful not to slip on the broken glass in front of the doorway. In ten minutes, we arrived at an old, deserted parking lot. The pavement was torn up and cracked to the point where it was mostly gravel, with some nice little bits of street scattered about. It was a horrible area to have fights, but it was popular because there were no functioning security cameras. They'd all been demolished years ago. Plus, the police rarely drove by this area, so it was where most gangs *ahem* _settled_ their disputes.

In two minutes, the rest of our gang was here. We were a group of about fifteen people, predominantly male. We had four girls, but they were just as good at bashing people's faces in as any of the guys, so we never tried to keep them out of the rumbles.

One man shouldered his way through the gang. He was about 6'2'', with a deep scar on the left side of his jaw. Another silver scar marred his face, slashing just above his left eye and over the bridge of his nose. He had reddish-green eyes and flaming red hair.

I'll give you one guess as to who he is.

If you said he's Red, then congratulations! You win the privilege to continue reading.

Red approached me. His eyes glinted in the fading sunlight. His thin lips twisted in a sneer as he said, "Well. Look who got the guts to bring his sorry ass here."

The people behind him shifted uncomfortably. Most of them wouldn't meet my eyes. It was clear they just wanted Red to shut up so we could get the rumble over with.

Maybe I should explain something. Red and I might be a part of the same gang, but we definitely didn't get along. Red hated me purely for the fact that I existed. He takes my existence as a challenge to his authority. It's a reasonable fear, seeing as I held more of the gang's respect than he ever did. It's actually pretty easy to see why he didn't want me around.

I lifted my chin. "Red." Just a statement.

He sneered again. He most likely would've sent a few more lame, derogatory insults, but the other gangs showed up. Red growled and pushed past me. I snorted to myself. Can't be seen throwing punches at one of his underlings, I thought dryly.

I turned around to survey the people that had just shown up. I felt a little smile tug at my lips. Oh, yeah. This was gonna be fun.

The first new gang here was the Chains. They were all guys, and most of them had a ton of facial piercings. The leaders and higher-ranking guys each had a lip piercing and a cartilage piercing connected by two thin silver chains. I smiled. Nudging Thunder, I murmured, "Betcha at least three of those guys are gonna have their jewelry ripped outta their faces by the time this is over."

He followed my gaze. "Heh. Probably right there, Angel."

The other gang was the Flares. These guys looked like those really, _really_ extreme punk dudes. You know, the ones with the insane mohawks and crazy makeup? That's them.

I didn't know exactly why they called themselves the Flares, but Thunder had told me that they sent up fireworks—flares—to signal an initiation, a victory, or a kill. … Seems kinda stupid to me. It's like yelling, "Hey, cops! I just killed a guy, and I'm idiotic enough to send up a _very fucking obvious_ signal with _all_ of the evidence _right here!_ Come arrest me!" But whatever.

Red and the other two leaders walked to the center of the lot. They started talking in low voices, setting up the rules.

Someone tapped my left shoulder. I turned and saw another friend of mine, Taz. I smiled. "Hey, Taz. What's up?"

He smiled back. His gold canine tooth glinted harshly. "Hey, Angel. We've missed ya."

"I missed you guys too. Red still his crazy self?"

Taz snorted. "Yeah, but more'n usual lately. Damn near shot someone when Thunder told him you was gonna show up. I'd duck and run after this is over. He's kinda touchy right now."

I blew air out my nostrils. "He's always touchy."

"Yeah, but Skittles left him. He's been throwin' li'l tantrums for a week.

I winced. "Yeah, that'll do it." Skittles was the only person that kept Red from throwing people out a window. She'd mellowed him out a bit. And, more than once, she'd helped me out of trouble. If she left, Red was going to be even more violent than usual. My hand started to move up to the thick scar on my neck. The little voice started to come back, and I mentally slapped myself. _Stop it_, I hissed to it.

I was about to ask Taz where she'd gone, but before I could, Red walked back over.

"This is gonna be a no-weapons-allowed rumble. If you don't follow that, you'll be—" his eyes glinted coldly "—_gently reprimanded_." A slight shudder ran through the gang. I suppressed a shiver myself. Everyone knew all too well that any reprimanding done by Red would be anything but gentle.

He paced a little. He said, "I wanna win this thing. Gotta show them who's boss. We ain't gonna let some weak little bastards win."

A murmur of agreement ran through our gang. Red turned around to face our rivals. The air was thick with tension, and the only sound I heard was Taz's breathing next to me.

Someone gave a sudden, hoarse yell, and the tension snapped. Everyone surged towards the center of the lot, whooping and hollering.

The three separate gangs collided and dissolved into a violent mass of people. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins. I ducked under a Flare's swinging arm and kicked him in the back. He stumbled forward onto another person. They went down throwing punches.

Somebody tried to grab my neck from behind, and I swung my elbow back and connected with my attacker's ribs. He grunted, but didn't let go. I squirmed around and managed to swing my weight to the side. Losing his balance, he staggered and fell, taking me down with him. When he smacked the back of his head against the ground, I felt the chokehold on my neck loosen. I seized my chance and broke his grip. Rolling over, I quickly scrambled up and knocked him out with a quick punch as he was trying to get up.

I jumped back into the fight, thoroughly enjoying myself at this point. I kicked a Chain's knees and he collapsed, taking down a Flare as he tumbled. Somebody's fist glanced off my jaw. It stung, but didn't faze me. I located the person—a big, ugly Chain—and blocked his next punch. I swung my fist and managed to connect with his nose. He staggered back, and I gave him a hard shove. He fell over backwards and cracked his head hard on the asphalt.

The fight continued like this for a matter of minutes. I got knocked over and punched and kicked more times than I could count. The whole time, I tried to avoid Red. He would most likely punch me out, and then later claim he didn't realize it was me.

I heard a loud, piercing whistle tear through the air. Suddenly the Flares were sprinting away. I smiled. One gang out, one to go.

After watching them for five seconds or so, the two gangs left whooped and yelled. As soon as the little cheers were finished, the fists started flying and insults filled the air again.

The Chains didn't hold out much longer. After another five or ten minutes, they staggered away from us. A loud victory holler rose up through my gang. I yelled even louder when I saw bloody chains hanging from a couple of guys' faces.

After they were gone, I felt the adrenaline leave me. My shoulders sagged. I felt aches and sharp zings of pain in various places. I rubbed a hand across my face and winced as it brushed against my nose. I pulled my hand back and saw a good amount of blood. Grimacing, I rolled my shoulders a bit to get rid of some of the tension.

Red turned to us with a harsh grin. That grin faded when he saw I was still there. He yelled, "Get outta here, boys. I gotta talk to Angel-face over here." The gang shot a few questioning glances my way, but didn't move. Red opened his mouth to yell at them more, but I flicked my wrist lightly, motioning for them to go. Thy reluctantly started heading back the way they came. Thunder and Taz looked over to me, silently asking if I wanted them to stay behind. I shook my head slightly. I didn't want to drag them into this anymore.

Red waited until they were out of sight and earshot, then whirled around to face me. His eyes were blazing with anger.

"What—the—hell—are—you—_doing_?!" he hissed. "Try'n t' steal my gang, are ya? I thought I said you was supposed to be out _two weeks_ ago! And you had the nerve to bring your sorry little ass to _my _fight!"

I cocked my head to the side. "I never said I was going to steal 'your' gang," I said. "They just respect me more than you."

He grit his teeth. "You bribed 'em, didn't ya? What didja offer 'em? Money? Drugs? Well? Answer me!" He went to slap me across the face, but I grabbed his hand.

I growled, "I did _not_ bribe them! I saved their hides, because_ you_ weren't going to! They know that! They remember everything that happened! And you wonder why they respect me!"

I turned to leave, but Red seized my arm. His gaze burned with anger. "Listen to me," he growled. "They might respect ya; they might listen to ya—now, at least. But—" he pulled a sharp, gleaming blade halfway out of his pocket, "—I can change all that—with one. Little. Slash." He tucked the blade away and let go of my arm. "Watch yourself, Angel. Don't turn your back, or you might mind my little buddy buried in the back of your neck." Red shoved me over and followed the gang. I stayed on my back, motionless, until the crunch of his shoes on the pavement faded.

I carefully sat up, trying to calm my breathing. I might not like to admit it, but Red's threat scared me. Shaking my head lightly, I stood up and brushed the little rocks off. With a start, I realized that it was completely dark. The streetlamps had turned on. I needed to get back to the Jackson's place.

In about forty-five minutes, I arrived at the Jackson's apartment complex. I sighed. Sally was gonna freak. I carefully eased open the door, grateful that it didn't squeal. One light was on in the living room, and I saw that Sally had fallen asleep on the couch. I felt guilty that she had waited for me to get back, but I was also relieved hat I didn't have to face her questions until the next morning. I glanced over at the digital clock on the stove and felt my eyes widen. It was 10:55 PM. I did the math in my head. I'd left at 2:00, so I'd been gone for almost _nine hours._ I winced. I'd be lucky if she didn't kick me out or scream at me for an hour.

I walked almost silently to the bathroom to clean up before going to bed. I carefully inspected my face for bruises. There was one forming on my jaw where the Chain had tried to score a hit, and there was a purple splotch on my right cheekbone. There was still dried blood on my lip from my nosebleed, and my hands were scratched up from breaking multiple falls, but not much else. I'd bitten the inside of my cheek at some point, but that wasn't a visible injury.

I decided to grab a quick shower before going to sleep. The hot water felt excellent on my stiff muscles.

When I was cleaned up, I threw on some old, clean clothes and curled up in bed. My eyes shut immediately, and I drifted off into a (thankfully) dreamless sleep.

**Okay! Chapter five... check! Alright, now I know you guys are probably crazy upset, but I swear the next update will not take that long. I was talking to a couple of friends and they were like, "What? You still haven't updated?!" and I was like, "NO, geez! I'm getting there!" and when the chapter got to over 60 pages in my notebook, I drew the line. So, second half of Five is probably the first half of Six. I'm so sorry, but please tell me what you think! Thanks!**


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